Just Pretend
by RemyDico5
Summary: Sherlock and John decide to fake a sexual encounter so everyone will stop asking if they're together. One shot.


Ok just a little note to go along with this. It started as an idea of doing a Spaced/Sherlock crossover sort of thing where basically John/Sherlock are in Daisy/Tim's situation where they have to pretend to be a couple to get a flat. But then I decided that was going to take a really long time to write and I'm already knee deep in other things. So instead it spiraled into this, which ended up much longer than I had anticipated. Anyways, have some Sherlock/John smut.

XXXX

"Oh yes Sherlock, just like that." John moaned loudly.

"You don't have to be quite so overzealous about it." Sherlock whispered harshly.

They were lying side by side on Sherlock's bed, both fully clothed. Neither of them were touching, in fact John had even put a pillow between them as a barrier. Sherlock had been texting on his phone up until the moment when John started overacting.

"Yes, Sherlock. Oh God. You're so big!" John practically shouted, trying to keep from giggling.

"You're not taking this seriously." Sherlock narrowed his eyes in annoyance.

"Of course I'm not taking this seriously. This was all your stupid idea." John snapped, bouncing on the bed slightly to make the springs creak underneath him.

"Well you agreed to it." Sherlock countered, pulling his phone back out.

"Sherlock, we're in the middle of pretending to have sex so that our nosy landlady will hear us and stop prying into our business. We're also hoping she'll tell all our friends so they will also stop asking us as well."

"Yes." Sherlock nodded, still engrossed in whatever he was doing on his phone. "Problem?"

"This is farcical. It's ridiculous. I'm not going to take something so idiotic seriously." He punctuated this thought with a few obscene sounding moans of Sherlock's name.

"Then why did you say you would do it?"

"Because I'm sick of Mrs. Hudson asking if I'm servicing your needs. The woman has the subtlety of a bus." John said rolling onto his side to face Sherlock. "Besides, I like the way you blush when I moan your name."

"You could dial it back." Sherlock gave him a sideways glance without commenting on John's observation.

"Would you rather I pretend you're rubbish in bed? I can do that."

John got onto his knees and started bouncing up and down. Sherlock watched on with mild curiosity. "Oh yes Sherlock. You are so good at this. You know just how to please me." John said in a dull monotone.

"Stop it." Sherlock hissed.

"Make up your mind." John shot back.

"Can't you just do what you normally do?"

"You really want to hear my sex noises?" John snorted.

"If this doesn't sound real then Mrs. Hudson won't buy it, she won't tell everyone we've had intercourse and we'll be back to fielding questions about our relationship everywhere we go."

"What do you care?" John asked, flopping back down on the bed. "You never bother to correct them."

"That's because it really doesn't bother me, while it seems to bother you a great deal."

"Well it makes it bloody difficult to get real dates when everyone thinks you and I are together. In fact trying to confirm it isn't going to help at all. Oh god I'm going to be single for the rest of my life." John groaned, covering his face with his hands.

"Considering what happened with Sarah, I would think you'd prefer it."

"Don't you dare mention her. Our break up was entirely your fault." John kept his voice low but he was getting angry.

Sherlock balked for a moment. "How was it my fault? I was simply behaving the way I always do."

"Yes, like a bastard. You were deliberately antagonistic towards her until she finally got fed up. For god's sake Sherlock, you fired a crossbow at her! It's a wonder I still have a job."

"I didn't fire it at her, I was checking the trajectory on it when she had the misfortune of walking past the kitchen door."

"The only reason you missed is because I tackled her to the ground."

"Yes, you've got excellent reflexes John."

"It's no use trying to butter me up. Let's just get on with this." John grumbled unhappily. He had somehow, in the course of becoming Sherlock's flatmate, signed his entire life over to him. John couldn't help feeling the Sherlock should have warned him. Still, he'd gotten warnings from everyone else, telling him to stay away. But had he listened? No of course not. Because he was a bleeding idiot.

"It's no good." Sherlock shook his head.

"What's not?"

"You're not doing it right."

Sherlock got up off the bed and John felt slightly relieved. Hopefully they were going to call the whole thing off. He didn't understand why they couldn't just tell people they were shagging instead of this whole big production. Sherlock insisted it had to be "authentic."

Something small hit John in the chest and he looked down to find a bottle of lubricant. His eyes opened in shock. "Um, what am I doing with this?"

"You're going to masturbate John, so that the noises you make sound real." Sherlock said simply and John just stared at him like he'd gone mental.

"You want me to have a wank while you...watch?" John asked in horror.

"Certainly not."

John relaxed for a moment.

"I'm going to go get the laptop and do some work while you finish." Sherlock replied, exiting the room with a flourish of his dressing gown. John stared after him, blinking and trying to process what the bloody hell was going on. Sherlock returned with John's laptop and lied back down on the bed.

"And why do you have to use my laptop?" John inquired.

"I like yours better." Sherlock shrugged and John saw Sherlock's website flicker onto the screen. He began furiously typing away, ignoring John completely.

"You really expect me to do this?" he asked, staring incredulously at his madman of a flatmate.

"Come on John, don't be shy." Sherlock said impatiently while still tapping away at the keys.

"Can you at least put on some music or something?" John begged, feeling so uncomfortable with his current predicament.

"I don't think we're the type of lovers to have sex to music. Is that what you normally do?"

"No, I simply don't want you listening."

"Well if I can't hear you, Mrs. Hudson certainly won't be able to."

"God I hate you so much."

"Don't forget to say my name so Mrs. Hudson believes I'm the one pleasuring you." Sherlock reminded, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk.

John grumbled under his breath, wanting nothing more than to smack Sherlock very violently. Instead he turned onto his side, away from the consulting detective. He cracked open the tube of lubricant and squeezed some onto his hand, rubbing them together to help warm it up. He closed his eyes and pretended he was in the privacy of his own room.

His hand snaked into his pajama bottoms and he touched himself lightly. He kept his mind blank, not allowing himself to think about anything. He concentrated on getting himself off quickly so this whole embarrassing episode could end. He just really hoped this wouldn't require a repeat performance.

He gripped himself tightly, pumping his fist in fast, even movements. His other hand went down and kneaded his balls, occasionally squeezing them lightly. Then he was very abruptly interrupted by his laptop getting slammed shut and Sherlock telling him to stop.

"What is it?" he asked keeping his hand on his cock but not moving it. He twisted slightly and watched as Sherlock crawled across the bed to settle on top of him. John removed his hands from his trousers and tried not to worry about the compromising position they were currently in, with Sherlock straddling his thighs.

"You're being too quiet." Sherlock growled angrily.

"Well sorry, I'm used to being quiet when I have a wank because I usually don't want you to hear."

"Irrelevant." Sherlock waved it off. "I always know."

"What?" John's mouth gaped open. "How? No wait let me guess. The way my cheeks are flushed. Or the way I walk. Or you can smell it on me or something."

"No. It's because you can never quite meet my gaze for at least half an hour afterwards. Tell me Doctor, is that because you're ashamed of touching yourself or is it because you thought of me while you did so?" Sherlock asked, lowering his head so they were dangerously close together, sharing the same air.

"You can't possibly know that." John shook his head, not sure in his convictions. Sometimes Sherlock knew entirely too much but there was no way he could know John's private thoughts. Could he?

"I've had my suspicions for quite a while now, which you pretty much confirmed right now." Sherlock grinned triumphantly.

Damn. "Does it bother you?" John asked, slightly worried. Even though Sherlock drove him up the wall, John enjoyed living with him. He didn't want his lustful thoughts getting in the way of things.

"Not in the slightest." Sherlock replied, licking a stripe from John's neck to back behind his ear.

"What are you doing?" John asked, squirming underneath his friend.

"Taking matters into my own hands." Sherlock's eyes were blazing and John felt pinned by the stare, not just by Sherlock on top of him.

Sherlock bent his head down and attacked John's neck, attaching his lips and sucking his skin hard. John tried to protest but the sounds got cut off in his throat. Instead he fisted his hand into Sherlock's hair and tugged at it slightly, trying to get Sherlock's lips to meet his own. He finally allowed himself to be coerced over and John roughly devoured those plump lips.

"Oh God, what are we doing?" John asked when he needed to break away to catch his breath.

"Sex, John, we're going to have sex. You're not really this stupid, are you?" Sherlock mocked, running a finger down John's chest.

"Yes, I can see that. God, you're irritating. I mean are we really doing this? It was only supposed to be pretend."

"Well it would have been if you were a better actor."

"You weren't exactly helping."

"I'm helping now." Sherlock said, his hand snaking down to palm John's erection through his trousers.

"Christ." John cried out, arching up into the touch.

"There, that's much better." Sherlock nodded approvingly.

"So, just like that we're going to shag?" John asked not quite ready to believe it.

"John, it's fairly simple." Sherlock snapped in annoyance.

"It's kind of out of the blue." John reminded him, biting his bottom lip nervously.

"John, do you want to fuck me?"

"Yes." he was a little surprised by how quickly he answered. Then again Sherlock already seemed very aware that John fancied him and if he didn't know John was keen, there was a fairly obvious sign poking into Sherlock's thigh.

"Good, then it's settled." Sherlock concluded as if that was all that was important.

"Yeah but...do _you_ want to?"

"I would hardly be here if I didn't." Sherlock rolled his eyes like he always did when he thought John should have noticed something obvious.

"Fine." John said, giving in. He cupped his hand around Sherlock's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. "Anything to get you to shut up."

Sherlock huffed out a breath to show his unhappiness but he allowed John to kiss him anyway. Their lips moved together until Sherlock's mouth parted and John slipped his tongue in, gliding it against Sherlock's. This elicited the first real moan of the evening, only it came from Sherlock.

John reached up and slid the dressing gown off his flatmate's shoulders, dropping it to the floor in a heap. Then he tugged at the hem of Sherlock's t-shirt and lifted it over his head, letting it join the other on the floor. It wasn't long before they had a rather impressive pile of clothes next to the bed and their lips were both red and swollen from kissing.

Sherlock moved down John's body, sucking and kissing and biting in his wake. John instinctively parted his legs and Sherlock moved into the space. Living with Sherlock had been a learning experience, John could admit that, and it was never boring. But nothing in the whole time of living together had prepared John for the feeling of Sherlock's lips surrounding his cock.

Those beautiful pink lips stretching around his prick. That sharp tongue doing wonderful things to the head of his cock. The heat and wetness and Oh God. Sherlock licked the sensitive underside from root to tip, swirled his tongue around the head and sunk back down. He bobbed his head, sucking in long pulls along John's length, each one making John moan indecently. He was fairly certain Mrs. Hudson could hear that.

"How are you so good at this?" John asked with a groan, his head falling back against the pillows where a moment ago he had been watching Sherlock intently. He arched his back and ran his fingers through his hair, feeling like he might go mad with ecstasy. Thank God Sherlock's hands were on John's hips, firmly holding him in place, or he would have been thrusting helplessly into that obscene mouth.

Sherlock dislodged with a pop and grinned up at John through lowered lashes. He very blatantly ignored the question and instead lied face down on the bed, resting his head against his arms with his leg bent to the side. It spread his cheeks enough that John could just see his puckered hole and it made John grow somehow harder.

John grabbed the lube from where he had discarded it earlier and slicked up his fingers again. He inched closer to Sherlock, turning on his side. He placed open mouth kisses on Sherlock's back as his thumb rested over Sherlock's opening. He moved in a circle, massaging the hole until he could slip two fingers in easily.

"Fuck." John sighed with the tightness and warmth of Sherlock's body clenching around his fingers. Sherlock was staring at him with those grey piercing eyes and they only fluttered closed when John crooked his fingers, pressing against Sherlock's prostate. He did a few quick pulses before adding a third finger. Sherlock's body stretched and when John was sure he had adjusted, he moved his fingers slowly and deeply, finding those glands on each thrust in. Sherlock was panting, his back arched, grinding his hips down for more.

"John." Sherlock groaned, his hands fisted in the sheets. "I'm ready just do it."

John snorted at Sherlock's eagerness but removed his fingers. He applied what was left on his hands liberally to his cock. The moment he was done, Sherlock threw his long leg over John, pulling him over and lifting himself so he was on top again. He grabbed the base of John's cock, positioned himself and sunk down.

"Oh shit, oh shit, fucking fuck." John cried out. He was only halfway in but he could feel the tightness, the warmth. Sherlock. This was actually happening.

Sherlock dropped all the way down and immediately threw his head back, exposing that long, gorgeous neck. "John." Sherlock said breathlessly, taking a moment for his body to adjust to the new feeling. Then he started moving, the muscles in his thighs rippling as he pushed himself up before grinding back down.

John started thrusting his hips up, unable to help himself. He needed more, to go faster and deeper, to explore the gorgeous man on top of him. He needed more of Sherlock. He propped himself up on his elbows and Sherlock got the idea, leaning down so their lips could meet. They kissed each other until their lips were bruised and then they both fell back, breath loud and staggered.

Sherlock was rolling and twisting his hips until he found the perfect angle for John to bump against his prostate every time their bodies came together. Then he started riding him fast and rough. Every time John tried to slow him down, Sherlock seemed to ignore him and move faster still. The sensations were amazing with Sherlock clenching around John's cock, the tightness of his hole causing a friction that John could hardly stand. He was teetering on the edge and knew any moment he'd finish. He wasn't ready for it to end though. So John gripped Sherlock's shoulders and, less gracefully than he would have liked, rolled them over until they had switched positions, with Sherlock flat on his back and John looming over him. At least he had succeeded in not pulling out, although just the head was still in, so it was just barely.

In one quick, hard thrust, he buried himself back in. Sherlock arched his back and bit down on his lower lip. John circled his hips and pushed in again, slowing their pace down. It was even and controlled, as Sherlock's body shifted and stretched but remaining unbelievably tight. Sherlock clamped his ridiculously long legs around John's middle and used it to grind himself down and quicken the pace.

John gripped Sherlock's hips, trying to get him to stop but discovered it was no use. Instead he concentrated on fucking Sherlock into the mattress. His thrusts became desperate and animalistic as he rutted against Sherlock mercilessly. The bed was shifting and creaking underneath them and if that wasn't enough to convince Mrs. Hudson of what they were doing, they were both being loud enough.

"Come on John, you can do better than that." Sherlock goaded him. "Harder. Come on John, harder."

John gritted his teeth and retaliated by shoving himself in as hard and as

deep as possible, snapping his hips at the end of each thrusts.

"You...are...impossible." John said punctuating each word with a thrust.

John threw one of Sherlock's legs over his good shoulder, changing the angle again. He knew he was hitting that sweet spot almost every time by the way Sherlock was writhing beneath him, making keening noises, with his face half buried in the pillow.

"John. John. Touch me. Please." Sherlock begged, murmuring against the pillow.

"What was that?" John asked, getting some pay back for earlier.

"For God's sake will you just touch me?" Sherlock snapped at him, his eyes narrow and dark with lust.

"Ask nicely." John couldn't help smirking as he kept up his punishing pace. He looked down at Sherlock's throbbing, aching cock that was leaking precome. It was begging to be touched and he knew the moment he did, Sherlock wouldn't last long.

"Please." Sherlock shut his eyes, the words half strangled in his throat. "John, please. Touch me. I want you to touch me. ..."

John removed a hand from Sherlock's hip and wrapped around his cock. His touch was teasing, not gripping him tight enough for any kind of release. He knew at this point he was just being cruel. He circled the head with his thumb and Sherlock let out a groan of frustration mixed with pleasure.

When John felt his orgasm rising up inside him, he finally held Sherlock's cock tightly and stroked him. Sherlock thrust himself up into John's hand, looking helplessly needy. John had to admit he enjoyed seeing Sherlock like that. Sherlock came first, a fierce cry tearing from his throat. A few more thrusts and John followed him, shouting his name.

John rode out the end of his orgasm, feeling exhausted and boneless. He pulled his now softened cock out and fell to the bed. For a moment they both lied very still and concentrated on getting their breath back. The moment his returned to him, John started giggling. If the evening had started out ridiculous, it was nothing compared to how it had ended. It still felt very surreal and it caused him to feel rather euphoric and giddy.

Sherlock was looking at him funny but John couldn't stop. No matter how many times he thought it, his brain couldn't seem to wrap itself around the concept that he had just had sex with Sherlock. **He** had just had _sex _with **Sherlock.** And that in turn made him giggle more. Sherlock grabbed John's arm and pulled him closer, silencing him with a kiss. John stopped laughing to more thoroughly snog his friend.

"So, do you think the mission was accomplished?" John asked when he finally had composed himself.

"I'd say so. If not we'll just have to do it again."

"Maybe in the kitchen."

"Or on the stairs."

"Well we don't want to give the poor woman a heart attack."

"Oh come on, Mrs. Hudson thought we were sharing a bed the moment you agreed to move in here."

"That doesn't mean she wants to see us shagging on her staircase." John chuckled, pressing a few soft, quick kisses to Sherlock's lips. "So this thing, it's going to be... ongoing?"

"Naturally, unless that's not what you want."

"No, no, it is. I just...up until about twenty minutes ago I didn't even know you wanted this. Wanted...me."

"Just because I'm not as obvious about my interest as you are doesn't mean I don't want this." Sherlock insisted.

"I am not obvious!" John said indignantly.

"You stare at me."

"You do that too."

"You call me fantastic in front of other people."

"You never deny that we're a couple."

" You think about me when you masturbate."

"You tag along to my dates."

"You've written a blog about me."

"It's about both of us."

"And will this merit an entry?" Sherlock asked, his eyebrow raised.

"No. Although that would let everyone know the status of our relationship."

Sherlock seemed to take a moment to ponder this.

"No." John tried to put a stop to that thought before it began. "I'm not doing it. No."

"You don't have to write in detail what happened, just that it did." Sherlock reasoned.

"No." John persisted, pushing himself off the bed and grabbing his pajama bottoms off the floor. He slipped them on quickly and retreated against the wall. "It's not happening Sherlock. We're sticking to the original plan and our sex life stays off of my blog."

"I think you're overreacting. You don't have that many readers."

"My sister reads that blog! So I'm assuming, does your brother and basically everyone we know."

"They're going to know anyway."

John turned his face away so he didn't stare at the very naked man making his way towards him. Sherlock was standing so close, their bodies almost touching. His eyes had been dark before but had returned to their icy grey color. Sherlock slipped his hands into the back of John's trousers, cupping his arse and pulling him closer so their bodies rubbed together.

"And there's nothing I can say to convince you?" Sherlock inquired, his voice deepening while he nipped at John's ear.

"No." John replied trying to stay strong.

"Anything I can do to change your mind?" He asked, kissing down John's jaw line before settling at his neck and sucking at the same spot he'd paid close attention to earlier.

"Nothing at all." he said in a shaky voice. He was losing ground quickly. He definitely wasn't thinking about Sherlock's mouth surrounding his cock and how he desperately wanted him to bring him to completion that way.

"Are you sure?" Sherlock murmured against his skin.

"Oh God." John groaned, letting his head fall back and it thudded against the wall. He pushed his fingers into Sherlock's hair and pulled him until their lips met. "You're going to be even more insufferable now, aren't you?"

"Not at all." Sherlock replied with a wolfish grin, running his hand through John's hair.

"Liar."

"I simply have more efficient means of getting what I want."

"So do I." John said firmly.

"Please." Sherlock rolled his eyes and pulled away.

He was halfway across the room when John tackled him to the ground. He sat on Sherlock's chest and pinned his arms up over his head. He attacked Sherlock's mouth, plunging his tongue deep inside and flicking and darting it around as if he was fucking Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock started the wiggle underneath him, moaning into John's mouth. John broke away, causing Sherlock to whimper. He kissed across Sherlock's cheek and started to suck at the skin below Sherlock's ear. He finished by nibbling at Sherlock's earlobe, teasing it with his teeth.

"John…" Sherlock groaned trying to get free of John's grip on his hands.

"Let's not forget who's the one who was begging helplessly." John whispered against his friend's ear. Sherlock shivered in response. "I can deny you until you're sobbing with need."  
>"I looked forward to it, Doctor." Sherlock said biting his bottom lip to keep from grinning.<p>

"Oh God." John said letting his head fall into the crook of Sherlock's neck and nuzzling against it. "What have we gotten ourselves into?"

Sherlock tilted his head so his lips were pressed against John's ear. "Something new."


End file.
